While Trick carried out his arcane experiments, Bo and Merlin were sitting up with a still-shaken Morgana. She had been relatively quiet as they returned to Bo's chambers and prepared to retire for the night; only now, when they were actually in bed with both of her lovers cuddled up close on either side of her, did she respond to their anxious queries about her state of mind with more than monosyllables.

"I don't really know how to feel, honestly. Obviously it came as quite a shock, and… Oh, I just don't know!" She ran her hands through the long black tresses that now hung loose down her back, freed from their jeweled clasps, then looked up with a sheen of desperation in her eyes. "I should be pleased to know more about my mother and relieved that there might be an explanation for why I developed this…this gift…or curse, and yet… In spite of all my fears that having magic meant I was some sort of monstrous aberration, at least I always believed that I was still human. Now I know I'm not. Not completely."

"I know it's hard," Bo said sympathetically as she took hold of the hand closest to her, stroking it soothingly with her thumb. "All those years I was on the run, I knew there was something very wrong with me, but I kept hoping one day I'd find a cure somehow. Then when Lauren told me I was fae, I felt exactly what you're feeling now. I was glad to finally have answers, but that didn't mean I liked them – especially when she said there was no fixing me."

Morgana nodded, taking comfort in knowing that Bo had gone through the same thing, that her girlfriend truly understood how she felt. It didn't change anything, but at least Bo's empathy made her feel less alone.

"Still, I guess it's better to know the truth," Bo continued. "Even if it's not what you'd hoped for, at least then you can work on finding a way to live with it."

"We'll be with you every step of the way," Merlin added, taking her other hand. "It doesn't matter what you are; fae or not, you're still Morgana, and we love you."

"Damn straight."

Too overwhelmed to speak, Morgana squeezed both of their hands tightly, trying to show through her touch how grateful she was for their unwavering support. With them by her side, she felt confident that she could face anything…even an uncertain future as a half-human, half-fae caught between two worlds and struggling to figure out where she truly belonged.

###

The following day, Trick sought them out to explain what he'd learned, starting with Morgana, whose nature, while highly unusual, was still more straightforward than Merlin's. Naturally, she was stunned to hear that not only had she somehow inherited her mother's repressed fae traits, but that side of her was actually growing stronger, slowly replacing her human blood, and more than a little worried.

"What are you saying?" she asked through trembling lips, her voice barely above a whisper. "That I'm…becoming less human?"

"That does seem to be the case," Trick confirmed as gently as he could.

Unfortunately, his gentleness did little to comfort her. "How much is it going to change me? When it's finished, will there be anything human left in me at all?"

"I really can't say – in all of our recorded history, I couldn't find another case like yours – though I doubt you'll ever become a full-blooded fae. You might develop some fae characteristics, but I think it's highly unlikely, for instance, that you'll ever need to feed on humans as most breeds of fae do."

"That's a relief," Morgana said with a brave attempt at a smile, before shooting a guilty look at Bo. "Not that there's anything wrong with having different…requirements, of course. Merlin and I don't mind helping you with that in the least."

"I bet you don't," Bo replied somewhat smugly. "And for the record, if you ever do need to chi-suck me, I'm happy to return the favor. Now, what about Merlin? Any genetic explanation for him basically being a magical nuke in a world full of firecrackers?"

Her phrasing earned a bemused look from Trick, which prompted Merlin to explain, "Bo picked up some strange vocabulary in the future; it was confusing when we first met, but I've learned to take what I can from the context and not think too hard about the rest."

"A wise approach, I'm sure. Well, Merlin, I found nothing in your bloodline to explain how you came by such vast powers, no unknown ancestor who could have passed it down through the ages-"

"So there's no reason for why I was born this way, then?" the sorcerer asked, crestfallen. "I really am just a freak?"

"At least you're a purely human freak," Morgana consoled him with a rather bleak grin.

"I did find something that may be of interest to you, though," Trick went on as if there'd been no interruption. "The amount of raw magical power in your blood is like nothing I've seen before, particularly in one so young; the only fae I know of with such power are those who've spent centuries honing and strengthening their skills. In the archives, I found records of ancient prophecies that speak of a being with innate power the likes of which the world has never seen, who will be the greatest sorcerer of all time. Tell me, have you ever heard of the name Emrys?"

Bo and Morgana both looked nonplussed, but Merlin went very still, his eyes wide.

Noticing his reaction, Trick said, "I take it you are familiar with the name, then?"

Merlin gave an almost reluctant nod before admitting in a hushed tone, "That is what the druids call me."

"Seriously?" Bo was clearly startled by this information, but still determined to put a positive spin on it. "Greatest sorcerer of all time, huh? Way to go, babe."

Merlin shrugged off her impressed look with an air of embarrassment. "That's probably an exaggeration – you know how these ancient prophecies are."

"It's true that not all prophecies are fulfilled," Trick agreed, "though it's still unwise to dismiss them out of hand, particularly in cases like this, when so many sources have spoken on the same subject through the ages."

"And what do these prophecies say of Emrys?" Morgana asked with keen interest.

"The general consensus is that Emrys will serve as a protector and counselor to a great ruler, and that he will be instrumental in ushering in a golden age of peace and unity throughout all of Albion."

"That's basically what Kilgharrah said, isn't it?" Bo asked, looking to Merlin for confirmation. "When he told you about your whole destiny with Arthur?"

Merlin nodded, but Trick offered a word of caution. "None of the prophecies I've read name the ruler Emrys is destined to guide. In fact, when you take into account how many times these prophecies were translated and reinterpreted as they were passed down from a time beyond remembering, it's not even clear if they originally referred to a single person – and Kilgharrah is hardly a reliable source of information. He has a tendency to twist the truth to his own ends."

"Yes, we've experienced that firsthand," Morgana said darkly. "So you're saying Arthur may not be the great king from the prophecy after all? Or only one of many?"

"I hope not," Merlin said. "I mean, how am I supposed to serve as an advisor to multiple rulers?"

"Sounds like there could be a conflict of interest there," Bo agreed, nodding.

"Perhaps not. The prophecies aren't absolutely clear or in complete agreement on the powers Emrys is said to possess, but at least some of them are worded in such a way as to suggest that this person may have the potential to achieve immortality, if they weren't already born to it. If that's the case, perhaps it means you're meant to advise a series of rulers in different eras," Trick suggested.

This theory was met with astonished silence, and as he looked at the trio of shocked faces surrounding him, it occurred to him that the revelations he'd just imparted to two people who until yesterday had thought that they were, if not quite normal, definitely still full members of the human race, had very likely turned their lives upside down, and they might need some time to process what they'd learned before going about their day. "Well, I'll leave you to, ah, talk things over. Bo, I'll expect you in the council chambers in two hours. Bring them as well; we can discuss how to proceed then."

The silence lingered for several minutes after the door closed behind him, until Morgana's subdued voice broke it at last. "Well, that was certainly…unexpected."

Bo and Merlin slowly turned their heads toward her, their eyes still glazed with shock, as she was sure her own were too. Encouraged at getting even that much of a response, she pressed on, her voice gradually growing stronger. "Still, there may be some good in it. Learning that we're even farther removed from the rest of humankind than we thought might have been a blow, Merlin, but think on it – perhaps our abnormalities could be the key to solving the issue we discussed yesterday."

"What issue is that?" Bo demanded, fully snapping out of her stupor. "Nobody told me there was an issue!"

"Because there isn't," Merlin hastened to assure her. "It's just that while we were training yesterday, Morgana had a conversation with her sparring partner that gave her a new perspective on… Well, on the fact that we aren't going to live as long as you will."

"Oh." His words brought Bo up short, her attitude shifting from indignantly concerned to somber in the blink of an eye. "Yeah, I guess I've always known on some level that that'd be a problem someday, but I haven't really thought about it too much. Growing up, I aged at the same rate as everyone around me, and I'm not any older than I look yet – not that I've noticed, anyway – so I guess everything I've heard about fae lifespans hasn't hit home with me yet. Not really." Then she brightened. "But hey, according to Trick you might be immortal if you really are this Emrys guy, and if Morgana becomes fae enough to stop aging… Maybe we really can make this last. Like, permanently."

She fell silent as the enormity of what she'd just said sank in. The love she'd found with Merlin and Morgana was like nothing she had ever felt before, and she was fully committed to staying with them as long as possible, but there had always been an air of uncertainty and impermanence hanging over their relationship, a looming sense of something threatening to tear them apart, whether it was something immediate like Uther trying to marry off her and Morgana or something of a more distant nature, like the fact that even if they were lucky enough to stay single, society would never accept them being together, or the unacknowledged yet inescapable reality of her lovers' mortality, and her own lack thereof.

Now, however, it seemed that they might have actually found a way around the most substantial hurdle in their path. There were still plenty of others to contend with – Trick's insistence on relegating Merlin and Morgana to pet status was definitely problematic – but now that they quite possibly had unlimited time ahead of them, Bo felt more optimistic than ever that they would find a way to overcome every obstacle facing them, that forever might truly be within their grasp.

###

When they reported to the council chambers as directed, Trick waved Bo inside while ushering Merlin and Morgana into a smaller side room where they were to meet the fae under whom they would continue their magical studies, though he had a few words for them first. "Last night, when you rebuffed my suggestion that you might find a better life with the druids in favor of remaining near my granddaughter… Your devotion to her is impressive."

They exchanged the briefest of sideways glances, their minds brushing one another just enough to confirm they were both thinking the same thing before Morgana said, "Thank you, sire," in a polite yet cautiously reserved tone. She could have said more, or Merlin could have spoken up, but neither of them deemed it advisable to profess their undying love for Bo to her grandfather just yet. He might be helping them as a favor to her, and was still being perfectly courteous to them even now, in her absence, yet they couldn't forget that under fae law – his laws – they were still classified as humans, at least for now, and were therefore considered to be even further beneath Bo's station than the lowliest scullery maid.

"I hope she can continue to rely on that devotion."

"My lord?"

"Having lived in a royal court prior to your arrival here, I doubt either of you will be surprised to hear that I did not arrange for you to continue your magical education purely out of the goodness of my heart."

Neither of them responded; they had indeed suspected as much, but accusing the king outright of having an ulterior motive seemed unwise, even after he had admitted as much. Better to keep quiet and let him reveal what he would.

Trick paused momentarily to see if they had any questions or comments; when he was satisfied that they did not, he went on in a solemn tone. "Not everyone rejoiced at the news of Bo's return. There are those in our world who have long feared and envied my house for the power we wield, who would like nothing more than to see the end of my line. Then there are others who are loyal to me but do not trust that Aife's daughter will make a suitable heir to the throne; they fear that she has inherited her mother's weaknesses, her impetuosity and vengefulness-"

At that, Merlin couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "But Bo isn't like that at all! I mean, maybe she does tend to charge headfirst into things, but that's only because she's passionate about solving whatever problem she sets her mind to. She can plan and strategize as well as anyone, and she doesn't try to get revenge on people who wrong her. All she wants is to help people."

"I'm glad to hear that," Trick replied, "and I hope, given time, those who doubt her will come to see her as you do. Of course, first she has to survive long enough for that to happen. I will do everything I can to protect her, but I am not omniscient, I cannot be everywhere at once, and even my power has limits. If I'm to keep her safe, I'll need help. I've already had a similar conversation with her swordsman, the wolf, but I need a different sort of help from the two of you."

"Hence your provisions for our training," Morgana surmised.

"Precisely. Both of you possess gifts which have the potential to be truly remarkable; more importantly, you've shown yourselves to be incredibly loyal to Bo when you left your former lives behind and journeyed here to save her."

"Yes, we are loyal to her. Whatever we can do to protect her, we'll do gladly."

"That's right," Merlin agreed. "You can count on us, sire." After all, he'd spent the last three years safeguarding one frequently imperiled future monarch, so pivoting to protecting another wasn't a difficult adjustment to make, even if their new environment presented different threats than the ones they'd faced in Camelot. At least this time, he reflected, he wouldn't be forced to work in secret to avoid being executed by the parental figure of the very person he was trying to defend, which would certainly make his job easier…as would the fact that Bo did not share Arthur's unfortunate tendency toward behaving like an ungrateful prat.

###

While Trick spoke with Merlin and Morgana, Bo paced the empty council chamber next door and counted the chairs around the long table, painfully aware that each one represented a fae dignitary who would soon be watching her, judging her. What if they all laugh at me? What if they think I'm an idiot – that I'm not good enough to be Trick's heir? …And why do I care what they think? I don't even want this!

The problem was, she did care. Ambivalence over her new status notwithstanding, she didn't enjoy appearing foolish or being thought incompetent any more than the next person, nor did she want to disappoint her grandfather.

As if summoned by her thinking of him, Trick walked in at that moment and proceeded to the seat at the head of the table while gesturing for her to take the one beside it, at his right hand. "There – that is your place."

Bo gingerly sat down as the council members began filing in, leaning over to whisper to Trick, "Shouldn't I have something to take notes with?"

"Take notes?" he repeated, giving her a strange look. "No, we employ a scribe for that purpose. All you need to do today is listen."

He then introduced her to his council, which included the fae who currently held the titles of Ash and Morrigan, both of whom were strangers to Bo. Meeting a different Ash wasn't so jarring since she had seen the position change hands during her time in Toronto, but it was hard to wrap her mind around the idea of anyone other than Evony being the Morrigan, especially since the older man who now led the Dark had none of Evony's flair. For just a second, she wondered idly where Evony was now and who she was tormenting; then the council got down to business, and every other thought was wiped from Bo's mind as she devoted all her concentration to listening so hard her ears hurt.

###

"How was it?"

Five hours later, Bo, Merlin, and Morgana had completed their separate pursuits and regrouped in Bo's chambers, where she had looked forward to having some quiet time to decompress, only to find that Morgana was unaccountably eager to hear every detail of the council meeting.

"Okay, I guess," Bo replied with a shrug. "The first ten minutes were basically a meet and greet, and then they started talking about taxes and agricultural reports, which as far as I could tell is pretty much business as usual. No major crises, although somebody did mention some rumors of rebel activity up north; seems like even now, there are people who still aren't happy about the laws Trick wrote to end the Great Wars."

"He only enacted those laws a few years before you were born, didn't he?" Merlin asked.

"Yes, and then my mother almost started the whole vicious cycle all over again by assassinating the Dark king who killed my grandmother. That's why Trick had to hand her over…and then he heard that she'd had me somewhere between three and five years later; guess they don't keep the most accurate birth records in Dark dungeons."

Bo's face clouded over at the reminder of her dark family history and the still-looming question of exactly who her father was which Trick hadn't been able to give her a definite answer to, but Merlin didn't let her dwell on it for long. "So the laws have been in effect for over thirty years, but that probably doesn't seem long at all to people who can live for centuries."

"That's true…and they say change can be hard for these old-timers," Bo agreed with a faint grin. "Anyway, Trick told the guy who made the report to keep an eye on the rebels and update him if it looks like they're planning anything big. Other than that, it was pretty boring."

"Boring?!" Morgana burst out, startling Bo with her vehement exclamation. "Do you have any idea how fortunate you are to be privy to such things? In all the years I lived at Uther's court and was said to be his daughter in all but blood, he never even considered offering me a seat on his council. Oh, he was happy enough to have me sit by his side in the throne room like some living ornament, but only with the understanding that I was only there to look pretty; I was never asked or encouraged to offer my opinion on the matters that were brought before him, let alone allowed into the inner sanctum where he and his trusted advisers shared the most sensitive information and made important decisions."

By the time she finished her diatribe, Bo was gazing down at her folded hands, looking thoroughly chastened. "I'm sorry, Morgana. I didn't think of it that way – that I'm being given something you never got even though you deserve it way more than me, and all I've done is whine about how I don't want the responsibility… You must think I'm an ungrateful asshole."

"I would never think that of you, Bo. Still, things may be different in the future world you lived in or here among the fae, but in the world I grew up in, it isn't always easy being a woman. You have a chance to wield real power here, to decide more than just which gowns and jewels to wear and make your influence felt in weightier matters than choosing the menu for the next banquet – have you any idea how many women would kill to be in your position?"

"Not really," Bo admitted. "I know patriarchy sucks in theory, but so far the only time I've experienced it personally was when Uther wanted me to marry Leon; I guess it never sank in just how stifling it must've been to grow up with that your whole life, especially for someone as smart and driven as you."

Morgana said nothing, but her expression made it clear that Bo had hit the proverbial nail right on its head.

"Look," Bo sighed, "it's not that I don't appreciate the opportunity; I just don't think I'm the right person for the job."

"But you're the rightful heir," Morgana protested with an air of perplexity.

"She didn't know she is until now, though," Merlin pointed out. "It's different for you – you grew up among nobility and royalty, watching Arthur prepare to take on responsibilities and authority you knew you'd never have even though you weren't an arrogant prat like him, but Bo's upbringing was more like mine, and, well… It was daunting enough when Kilgharrah told me I had to keep Arthur alive long enough for him to become king, mainly because I couldn't stand him then, but if he'd said I had to take the throne myself, I probably would've fled the city. When you spend all your life being told that power is only meant for those above your station, I can't imagine how it would feel to suddenly be thrust into that position yourself, royal blood or no."

"Thank you," Bo said emphatically. "I'm glad at least one of you gets it."

"Although," Merlin continued thoughtfully, "having a monarch who was raised as one of the common folk might not be such a bad thing. You understand the people and their problems better than anyone who spent their whole life in a castle surrounded by luxury could ever hope to, and no one cares about helping others, standing up for those who can't defend themselves, more than you. You'd make a much better ruler than someone like Uther."

"Ugh, not you too. Everyone keeps telling me what a great queen I'd be, like all of a sudden there's something different about me just because of my stupid royal blood. I wish Kenzi was here; she'd understand that I'm still the same person I've always been, who definitely does not belong on a throne. I'm just Bo." With that, she stalked off to another of her private rooms, leaving Merlin and Morgana staring after her in dismay.

After a moment, Merlin asked, "Do you think we should've told her there are several people who don't think she'll make a great queen at all? That might cheer her up…except for the part where, according to Trick, those people want to stop her from claiming her birthright by killing her."

Morgana arched an eyebrow at him. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a strange idea of how to go about lifting a person's spirits, Merlin? Well, apart from the time you brought me flowers after I set the hangings on my bed ablaze; those were lovely."

"You think I should stick with flowers, then?"

"Yes, I do. I don't want to alarm Bo with the idea of assassins lurking in the shadows – although," Morgana mused, "knowing her, it might be what spurs her to take on the role she's meant for, just to show them she won't back down from a challenge. It wouldn't be right to apply that sort of pressure, though, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't," Merlin agreed. "I don't understand why it's so hard for her to see what the rest of us see in her, but if she's going to become the queen we know she can be, she has to find her own way to it. Can you imagine what a disaster it would've been if Arthur was forced onto the throne before he was ready?"

Morgana shuddered at the thought, then said decisively, "Anyway, it's not as if we're going to let those would-be assassins anywhere near her, so there's no reason for her to worry about them."

###

The weekend arrived, and with it, the much-anticipated (or dreaded, depending on who one asked) ball. Trick had told Merlin and Morgana that they were welcome to attend, so Morgana dressed herself in one of her finest gowns, silver and gold with an overlay of pale gold lace, dressed her hair with gold baubles, and put on a fine golden necklace along with a pair of gold and pearl earrings, while Merlin polished his boots and put on his freshly washed red scarf. Bo, meanwhile, had no clue what she was supposed to wear since her new dress hadn't arrived yet.

"I can't believe this," she fretted while pacing the length of her bedchamber in her shift. "The party starts in two hours, and I have nothing to wear! Hell, I don't even know what the thing looks like! What if it's hideous?" Grabbing Morgana as she passed the dressing table where the younger girl was putting the finishing touches on her makeup and spinning her around on the stool to face her, she demanded, "You haven't had a vision of it, have you?"

"I'm afraid not," Morgana replied with a frown at Bo's hands, which were crumpling the lace of her sleeves where they clutched her arms. "Bo, will you just calm-"

"What good is having a psychic girlfriend," Bo grumbled with a mock pout, "if you can't even tell me whether I'm about to shoot to the top of the kingdom's 'worst dressed' list?"

"I don't need a vision to tell me that isn't going to happen," Morgana retorted, unruffled.

"How do you know?"

"Because you make everything you wear look beautiful," Merlin said as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"He's right." Morgana set aside the color she had just finished applying to her eyelids and stood up so that they were face to face. "Now stop worrying."

Suddenly faced with her gorgeous girlfriend, who was even more gorgeous than usual now that she was dressed to the nines, standing so close that the intoxicatingly delicate scent of her perfume permeated the air around them, Bo's nervous energy sputtered out. "Are you trying to distract me?" she breathed, her eyes fixed on Morgana's exquisite face.

"That depends…" She raised a hand to trace Bo's cheekbone with her fingers. "Is it working?"

"No – ah!" (The gasp was in response to Merlin kissing her neck.) "Maybe a little."

"It's not fair," Morgana complained as she watched them. "I've already done my lips, so now I can't kiss either of you without smearing the color."

That's why I don't wear lip paint, Merlin smugly rejoined in her head while his mouth remained occupied with Bo's tender skin, which still tasted of lavender and vanilla after her recent bath.

Before Morgana could think of an appropriate comeback, there was a knock on the door, and Olga's voice called out that she had come to dress Bo.

Looks like you don't get to enjoy our delectable succubus either, Morgana taunted as Merlin quickly detached himself from Bo just before the maid entered. Judging by the narrow-eyed look she gave them, however, they suspected that the old battle axe knew exactly what they'd been up to.

"You two run along now," she said sternly. "I will prepare the princess."

"I can help," Morgana offered, but Olga waved her off, muttering under her breath about how Bo would doubtlessly call on Morgana later that night to get her out of her dress. The maid then shooed her and Merlin out despite Bo's protests that she was perfectly capable of keeping her clothes on with them around.

"I served your mother since she was a young girl – she was such a sweet child before her powers manifested, though she grew quite wild afterward – so don't think you can put anything past me, your highness. Now let's get you ready before the king arrives to escort you downstairs."

Bo stopped arguing, hoping that if she cooperated she might get to hear some stories of Aife's childhood, from someone who still remembered her as something more than a crazy, homicidal traitor.

###

Trick showed up just as Olga reached the end of an anecdote about Aife's fifth birthday, fondly adding his own memories of how Isabeau had cheered their daughter up when she cried over not getting a pink winged unicorn for a pet before dismissing the maid. Left alone with Bo, he looked her up and down while she did a slow twirl to show off the full effect of her new ballgown, and unless her eyes deceived her, his misted over slightly.

"Hey, Trick, you're not upset that we were talking about Aife, are you?" Bo asked anxiously, hastily aborting the twirl and letting her skirts settle around her ankles once more. "It's just that Olga mentioned knowing her as a child, and I hardly know anything about her-"

"No, no – it's good to know there are those, few as they may be, who still spare a thought for the person my daughter used to be, not only what she became. You remind me so much of her, Isabeau, and even more of your grandmother. I wish they could be here tonight, to see how beautiful you are."

"Aw, Trick…"

"Isabeau would have wanted you to have this." Reaching into the pocket of his deep blue, silver-embroidered coat, he took out a necklace made of silver so fine it had been worked like lace, spun into an intricate floral design that went perfectly with the embellishments on her dress.

"Wow, it's so… I can't take this. It's too much."

"Consider it a belated gift from your grandmother." Beckoning her to bend down, he fastened it around her neck. "You belong to this family, Bo, and as such, you have every right to heirlooms like this. Never think you're unworthy of them, or of anything else."

Bo still felt uncomfortable wearing a piece of jewelry that probably cost more than the house she grew up in, yet she couldn't deny that knowing it had belonged to her grandmother, feeling that sense of connection to her family that she'd yearned for so long, made her not want to take it off. She offered no further objections as Trick took her hand and led her out of her chambers – until, as they made their way through the corridors, he told her exactly what would happen at the ball.

"The evening will begin with a receiving line, where you'll be introduced to the most prominent nobles of our world…most of whom, I daresay, will bring their heirs or other eligible relatives-"

At that, Bo screeched to a halt, inadvertently yanking Trick's arm. "Eligible?" she repeated warily. "Trick, please tell me this isn't some kind of Cinderella setup where I'm supposed to find my future Mr. or Mrs. Bo Dennis after one dance! Sure, I loved that movie when I was little, but now that I'm older I know it takes a lot more than a single waltz to fall in love with someone, no matter how dreamy it is!"

It was painfully ironic – And just my luck, she thought bitterly – that they had come here in part to escape the marriages Uther had arranged for her and Morgana, and had learned secrets which offered a glimmer of hope that they could make their relationship last longer than she had ever dared dream, only to find themselves facing the very same situation they'd left behind in Camelot. At least it's only me this time, Bo consoled herself. Morgana's safe.

"Of course I don't expect you to choose your future consort tonight," Trick chortled, and it was as if a ray of sunlight pierced the dark cloud of despair that had fallen over her.

"You don't?" she asked, cautiously hopeful.

"Heavens, no! Marriage isn't a decision you want to rush into; you should take at least a century or two to mull over your options before getting betrothed," he said seriously, and Bo started breathing once more, at least until he spoke again. "Still, there will be many noble families hoping to improve their standing by winning your hand, so we should at least give the appearance of being open to the idea. It won't do to slight our allies by refusing to even consider their offers. Besides, you will have to marry eventually; I suppose it's not too early to begin looking."

With those words, the weight that had briefly departed from Bo's stomach dropped back into it, but she refused to let it drag her down, choosing instead to focus on Trick's assurances that she would have a say in the matter, and that he didn't expect her to make up her mind right away. Two hundred years is a long time – hopefully long enough that if Merlin, Morgana, and I put our heads together, we can find a way out of this.

###

Blissfully unaware of their paramour's predicament, Merlin and Morgana followed the flow of people decked out in festive finery, trusting that the tide would take them to the right place. As they neared what seemed to be their destination, judging by the steadily thickening crowd, they spotted Dyson, who waved them over. He was standing with a group of his new friends from the guard, several of whom Merlin and Morgana were acquainted with as well; they hadn't had as much time for sparring since their magical training commenced, but they were still friendly enough with most of Dyson's companions that none of them openly objected to the human couple joining them. A few wrinkled their noses and moved back slightly as if afraid of being contaminated, but those few were ignored while Dyson and Gabriel greeted them – the latter with his usual enthusiasm, the former in a more subdued manner.

"How's Bo? Not too nervous, I hope?"

"She was fine when we left her," Merlin assured Dyson.

"Apart from the suspense over her new dress," Morgana qualified.

"Ooh, I can't wait to see it!" Mireya squealed, sounding almost as excited as her cousin. "I bet it'll be wonderful!"

"We'll see the princess soon enough once everyone takes their places in the throne room," her wife said patiently, placing a calming hand on the redhead's lower back. "Shall we?"

Zhadia held out her arm, and the others in the group who had come with dates followed suit, pairing off with their respective partners. The fox-shifter, Esperanza, wasted no time in attaching herself to Dyson, prompting Merlin and Morgana to exchange knowing looks. Bo had mentioned sensing a nascent attraction between them, and it seemed her succubus instincts were accurate as always.

Seeing that most of their group had linked up with someone, Merlin offered his arm to Morgana. "May I have the honor of escorting you, my lady?"

"You may, kind sir," she replied, beaming as she hooked her arm through his. In Camelot, such a gesture would have elicited outraged gasps and probably would have resulted in Merlin getting hauled off to the dungeon; here, no one batted an eyelash at the richly attired lady taking the arm of a commoner in worn boots and a frayed scarf. Here, the old differences in their stations no longer applied – all that mattered was that they were both human, and therefore equal. As they filed into the throne room with everyone else, Morgana said wonderingly, "I never thought we'd be able to do this."

"Me either. At least that's one good thing about being here." Merlin didn't quite understand why she was so excited about walking into a room with him, but seeing her so happy made him happy.

Morgana received another, less welcome reminder of her new status when they entered the throne room; in her old life as a noblewoman, she would have lined up with her peers to greet the newly returned princess, but now, as a mere human, she was shunted off into the background along with the guards, servants, and assorted others who were not deemed worthy of an introduction. She swallowed those bitter feelings, however, determined not to let them spoil her evening.

At long last, when everyone was assembled in their proper places, a fanfare announced the royals' arrival, and Bo entered the hall hand in hand with Trick. Merlin and Morgana both felt their breath catch in their throats at the sight of her; every time they thought they were getting used to her beauty, she found some new way to stun them, and her new gown, with its form-fitting bodice and flowing skirts and sleeves in deep blue and varying shades of purple, silver accents that drew the eye to her trim waist and neckline, and shoulder-baring design, certainly did the trick.

She looks beautiful, doesn't she? Morgana asked with a mental sigh.

Even more than usual, Merlin agreed. In that dress, standing beside her grandfather in his matching royal regalia, she looked every inch a princess – and every bit as unattainable as Morgana had seemed at the first celebration he'd attended in Camelot, when she swept into the hall in her ravishing scarlet ballgown without a single glance in his direction. The memory colored his admiration of Bo with a tingle of hopelessness, but as his gaze slid sideways to Morgana, who had appeared so untouchable then yet now stood beside him with her hand tucked into the crook of his arm, he reminded himself that nothing was ever truly hopeless. After all, if his current situation wasn't proof of how drastically things could change given enough time, he didn't know what was.

###

As she and Trick took their places in front of the dais where his throne sat, Bo had to admit she was gratified by the appreciative gasps and envious or lustful (or both at once) looks aimed her way, especially when her eyes found Merlin and Morgana on the sidelines, both of whom were staring at her with wide eyes and slightly open mouths. Looks like I don't have to worry about making this week's list of fashion 'fae' pas after all. Maybe this ball will be more fun than I thought.

Nearly thirty minutes later, she was struggling to keep from yawning as a seemingly endless parade of nobles bowed and curtsied before her, told her what an honor it was to meet her, and kissed her hand until it went numb. Try as she might to keep them straight, the names and faces were starting to blur together in her mind, until the herald's next introduction jogged something inside her head.

"The Archduke Claude-Henri Marquise!"

Marquise? Why does that sound familiar?

Bo watched with renewed interest as the archduke stepped forward, but the stern-faced man with aristocratic features and a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard stirred nothing in her memory. The younger woman on his arm with dark curls piled atop her demurely bowed head, however…

"Princess Isabeau," the archduke intoned as he bestowed yet another kiss on the back of her hand, "what a joy it is to see you returned to your rightful place. May I present my daughter…"

At that moment, his companion finally raised her head to meet Bo's gaze, and a sudden rush of blood in the succubus' ears drowned out the rest of her father's words. Bo had thought she recognized the surname Marquise, but it hadn't come to her immediately since she had only learned it not too long before her abrupt departure from the twenty-first century, having previously known its owner only by her title. Still, there was no doubt in her mind now about who was being presented to her: Evony Fleurette Marquise, future leader of the Dark Fae.

Oh look, our old frenemy Evony is now in the mix…and according to Trick, the nobles who brought their kids to this shindig are probably hoping to set them up with Bo. This should be fun.

If anyone wants to see what Bo's new dress and necklace are supposed to look like, there's a link on my profile.